


zero for conduct

by 99yeon



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: F/F, brooklyn 99 au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-26 21:38:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15009983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/99yeon/pseuds/99yeon
Summary: “You can get your own sandwich,” she points out helpfully, “It’s a two-minute walk.”“But I’m tired.”“Then starve.”or:the ninety-ninth precinct, and the lesbians that come with it





	1. roll deep

**Author's Note:**

> soooo here's another chaptered mess :]

The precinct is a pleasant place this time of the year for a few reasons.

Nayeon is on vacation in California and took Sana with her, in yet another bid to prove that they definitely aren’t dating. She’d said it so herself in the none too polite email to Jihyo, that also detailed several colorful ways she could use her baton if she didn’t approve said vacation.

They won’t be back for a week, ensuring that none of them have to listen and watch Sana stealing kisses under the guise of submitting reports to Nayeon’s office. There’s a reason Momo moved her desk as far away as possible from that place. Jihyo just hopes they won’t break anything in France - Nayeon had said something about a tight budget and not even being able to pay for the taxi that took them to the airport after paying for the trip. Though, that was almost certainly a lie and a puppy-eyed tactic for Jihyo to give her a raise.

(Which also assumes that Jihyo has the power to. She’d laughed at the very insinuation.)

Also, the vending machine was fixed last night. None of them know who called maintenance in, but they’re not complaining - soda tends to be one of the only things that soothes Mina’s nervy, anxious moods. Without it, she ends up pacing around her desk with case files in hand (meticulously arranged and labelled, of course – she’s not Momo, who’s a brilliant detective but horrible at keeping things labelled correctly), muttering about deadlines and other important things, like which color binder she should use for this set of files. It’s only been a week since she put Jeongyeon in a headlock for daring to suggest that she was getting high-strung.

Right now, they exist in an almost perfect equilibrium. Work is sluggish, and Jihyo gets to enjoy a game of computer chess when she’s especially efficient. Between signing off on reports and winning every game she starts (the computer a sub-par opponent at best), it’s a cushy life.

Queen to C7, and _checkmate_. Jihyo reclines in her chair, sighing happily – and within there is the question. She should be happy, and comfortable now.

So why does it feel like there’s something missing?

-

For the fifth time today, Mina emerges from the break room with bottles of Mountain Dew cradled in her arms, and Jeongyeon sighs. She watches Mina make her way back to her desk opposite Sana’s. She’s stacked cans of sodas together on Sana’s empty desk, and she now adds the bottles to the structure, looking very proud of herself.

(“Mina was a competitive stacker in high school,” Dahyun explains to the crowd of onlookers comprising the the detectives, Jihyo, Chaeyoung, and Tzuyu. “She would stack cups and bowls. It was pretty rad.”

“I was nationally ranked,” Mina says proudly, and her smile diminishes when she realizes that she isn’t getting the impressed reactions she expected. She tries again, “Did you hear me? I was _nationally_ _ranked_.”)

With a hand propping her chin up, work forgotten, Jeongyeon watches Mina whip out her phone for a photo of the structure. She runs a blog for fellow _stackers_ that showcase her stacking feats that she thinks the rest of the squad doesn’t know about. (Dahyun had looked into the abnormal IP activity and sent the link to the rest of them. It’s pretty obvious that Mina taught herself HTML the more you look.) She smiles to herself, lost in her own world, and bends down for a better shot.

At the same time, Momo walks past with a croissant from the bakery next door. Jeongyeon sees it happen in slow-motion – Mina bending down and knocking into Momo, Momo’s eyes widening as she loses her balance, the pastry sliding off her paper plate like a puck across a hockey rink-

Jeongyeon steers her eyes away from the resulting commotion and tears, telling herself that it’s better if she doesn’t look.

-

“Tzuyu.”

“Tzuyu.”

“Hey Tzuyu.”

A crumpled ball of paper hits Tzuyu straight in the neck, and she closes her eyes, telling herself to breathe, breathe, the jail time isn’t worth it. She doesn’t uncrumple the ball, because Dahyun has been writing the same message for the past half hour, as evidenced by the paper planes lying on the ground.

“Tzuyu.”

She didn’t graduate with crushing debt for this. Tzuyu continues typing up her lab report, straightening her back and hopefully making it very clear to Dahyun that she will tolerate her tomfoolery no longer.

“Hey-“

“Speak my name again and it will be your last breath,” Tzuyu promises, and she can practically _hear_ Dahyun pouting. She’s so lucky that Tzuyu took a vow to serve and protect – though does that vow extend to pesky IT people who move their desks into your lab and annoy you?

Dahyun isn’t all bad, obviously. Tzuyu is just cranky, and confused as to why Dahyun would rather sit here and talk to her instead of getting lunch. “It’s just a sandwich.”

“You can get your own sandwich,” she points out helpfully, “It’s a two-minute walk.”

“But I’m tired.”

“Then starve.”

Their exchange is interrupted by footsteps and the door to the lab swinging open. Tzuyu turns to see Chaeyoung come into the lab, giving them two-fingered waves. She’s clutching a sheaf of documents and reports, and sighs, “Damn meetings. Jihyo _promised_ they wouldn’t overrun past lunch.”

“I’ll get you a sandwich,” Tzuyu volunteers, and Dahyun gasps.

-

This is not how Sana envisioned her dream vacation going.

 

Yes, they _did_ take time off in August (crime peaks in summer, who knows if it’s the heat or the dust), and _yes_ , Nayeon had more demanded the time off than asked for it from Jihyo, but that shouldn’t change the fact that it was a well-deserved break for the two of them. They are both so easily swept up into work that to detach themselves, they have to physically do so. And even then, it’s not enough – they went through each other’s baggage to make sure that all case files stayed in the precinct.

 

Taking these precautions meant that, hopefully, they would have a worry-free break. There’s something magical about the Pacific Ocean this time of the year, and it’s made even more magical by the notable absence of ringing phones and unsolved cases. Also, Jeongyeon isn’t here to separate them and remind them of workplace etiquette, which means that they can kiss as much as they want to. Something which they’ve been doing a lot of, to Sana’s delight.

 

But there’s something missing. She hadn’t noticed it at first, because the first few days had been the best vacation she could’ve hoped for. Nayeon had planned it all out with surprising foresight, giving them ample time to visit the beaches and the amusement parks, and had topped it off by proposing at the top of the drop tower at Six Flags.

 

(“Is that a yes?” Nayeon grins, lacing their fingers together. Sana is sobbing, tears running down her cheeks, and the older girl leans in to kiss them away. “I didn’t realize you’d cry when I proposed, baby.”

 

“It’s a yes,” Sana whimpers, “But I’m crying because we’re two hundred feet in the air.”

 

The goofy grin on Nayeon’s face grows bigger, and she kicks her feet out playfully, “I know! We had our first date on a drop tower, remember?”

 

She smiles at her girlfriend’s flair for the romantic. Of course Nayeon would propose here – not under the light of a thousand stars, but by the smell of popcorn and candy floss. “Yeah. I love you. Of course I’ll marry you.”

 

“I love you too,” Nayeon grins, and Sana lets her slot the ring on her finger before kissing her again. Then Nayeon looks down and pales, “Hey, we’ve been up here a while, haven’t we?”)

 

But then Mina had texted them about a new case that she’s working on, and they had gotten distracted. Not the good sort of distracting that they do with each other’s lips, but the bad sort of distraction, that resulted in them hunched over their laptops and taking notes furiously. Sana supposes it’s romantic if you think about it. Two detectives, doing what they do best, side by side in their advances against crime.

 

Not really romantic if you consider that the room’s been silent for the past three hours. They’re side by side on the king-sized bed, respective department issued laptops in their laps propped up by pillows. Nayeon is examining the crime scene photos Dahyun from forensics took. Sana has a chat window with Mina open (it’s six AM on a Saturday in Seoul, but Mina is just as intent as the two of them to solve this) and is discussing the case with her.

 

“Look at this,” Nayeon murmurs, brushing against Sana’s wrist to get her to look at her screen. “Plaster masks. Dozens of them, exactly like what was found molded to the victim’s face.”

 

Sana curses. “Are the other masks molds of people’s faces?”

 

Nayeon shakes her head, “Chaeyoung and Tzuyu don’t think so. Maybe they were practice masks for our perp to hone his craft.”

 

The window on Sana’s screen lights up, and she turns her attention to it.

 

 **Myoui Mina** : GTG. Momo is telling me to chill out.

 **sana** : lmao

go cuddle then, lovebirds

 **Myoui Mina** : Honestly, you should do the same. Enjoy your trip.

 

Mina disconnects, and Sana looks over at her girlfriend, who’s intensely studying her screen, muttering things only comprehensible to her. Her first reaction to Mina’s message had been to roll her eyes, but Mina (and, as a result, Momo) has a point.

 

She closes her laptop, and Nayeon blinks out of her reverie, “Huh?”

 

“Let’s,” Sana closes Nayeon’s laptop too, shaking her head with a fond smile when the older girl pouts and paws for her computer, “Let’s just enjoy the time we have now. The case can wait.”

 

“Crime doesn’t wait,” Nayeon protests, but Sana gives her a look, and she pouts, “I’m serious!”

 

“And so am I,” Sana says firmly, putting away their work, trying hard not to look at Nayeon. She’s employing her puppy-dog look that lets her get away with more than she should. Sana tells herself she won’t fall for it this time, because they need this, whether they know it or not. She presses a kiss to the side of Nayeon’s neck, “I love you.”

 

She’ll never grow tired of saying it.

 

Nayeon softens, pulling her close, “I love you too.”

 

-

 

“Come in.”

 

Momo stumbles into Jihyo’s office with a report for her to sign off on, but it’s clear that she has something more on her mind. Motioning for her to leave the report on her desk, Jihyo asks, “Penny for your thoughts?”  

 

“Nayeon got engaged,” Momo squeaks, looking as if her knees might give way any time soon. She braces herself against Jihyo’s desk, “Sana got engaged to- They got engaged to each other. Sana just posted a picture of her engagement ring.”

 

“Oh, yes, I know.”

 

Momo throws her hands in the air, “What! You mean they told you?”

 

She looks hurt, and why wouldn’t she be? Sana is her best friend, and they tell each other everything – Momo has mentioned Sana’s bowel movements with terrifying familiarity before, and she’s pretty sure Sana took a straight shot of vinegar to line up their monthly cycles. It’s disgusting, but it’s what makes them Momo and Sana, and Momo is understandably wounded about not being informed of their engagement.

 

Jihyo steeples her fingers, “No. I deduced it myself. Three things made it obvious.” She reaches beneath her desk and pulls out a flipchart.

 

“There’s a chart,” Momo says slowly, and Jihyo nods.

 

“One,” she points at the _Desperation_ bullet point, “Nayeon was eager to the point of desperation for time off. It could have been a desire to get away from her work, but when I suggested letting her go earlier, she flat-out rejected it. So she definitely had a special venue booked, and couldn’t shift the date.”

 

Next point, this one written in blue marker and titled _Orthodontist visits,_ “Two, Nayeon told me she couldn’t make it for dinner a few times because she was at the orthodontist’s to fix her teeth. This was a lie, because Nayeon thinks she’s perfect. She was out choosing an engagement ring.”

 

“And lastly, Jeongyeon and I went for dinner with the two of them a month ago, during which Sana brought up the idea of marriage. Nayeon immediately threw her fork on the floor and told Sana to get it for her.”

 

The younger woman nods in awe, and Jihyo lets herself feel content. “Great detective work, captain.”

 

Jihyo shakes her head, suddenly looking very concerned as she replays the scene in her mind, “Actually, that might have been them acting out their kinks in public. Sana _did_ pick it up with her tongue.”

 

“I’ve heard about that,” the detective winces.

 

“Oh no.”

 

“I’m going to leave,” Momo bows low like one might do with an empress, scooting backwards out of Jihyo’s office, and Jihyo wonders how great a cost her detective work came at.


	2. interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly closer to a chapter 1.5 than a chapter 2........................... kind of an extension to them as characters! the real stuff is gonna start next chapter look fwd to it and sorry for the short update u w u... my plans for this fic are kinda a series of drabbles than an actual linear plot but let's see where we go!

From: Myoui Mina < [myouimina@gmail.com](mailto:myouimina@gmail.com) >

To: momo hirai < [momomomomo96@hotmail.com](mailto:momomomomo96@hotmail.com) >

Subj: Apology for events of Jun 22

 

Dear Momo,

  
I’m writing to apologize to you for the aptly named ‘Croissant Mishap’ that transpired yesterday, Jun 22 (Fri). I’ve Venmo’d you $5 – enough for another croissant and a latte, I know you like lattes – to make up for it. I’m not sure why Jeongyeon and Chaeyoung find this so funny and why they keep sending me strange six-second videos, and I don’t think I want to know. I apologize profusely for the inconvenience I’ve caused you, and hope that it won’t sully our relationship as friends and colleagues.

 

See you tomorrow.

 

Yours,

Myoui Mina

Detective

Seoul Metropolitan Police Force (99th Precinct)

 

-

 

“Look at this,” Mina says, showing her a page from PsychologyNow.com (Jeongyeon _really_ should sit down and have a talk with Mina about discretionary online practices – she’s fallen for two pyramid schemes this month alone.) “My dad sent this to me. It’s about how people have different types of intelligences.”

  
“Ahuh,” Jeongyeon mumbles through a bite of her bagel, only half-listening – she’s more interested in the sight of Momo pacing around her desk, looking up and down for… something. Jeongyeon hasn’t quite figured what it is, and knowing Momo, neither has she, probably. “Fascinating.”

“And I’ve figured out where each of our squad goes,” Mina beams. “It’s pretty interesting to see where everyone goes. Nayeon is what Howard Gardener would describe as having an _interpersonal intelligence_ , because she’s good at interacting with people. Chaeng would have _linguistic_ _intelligence_ , like, being good at expressing herself with words. And you’re good with logic and philosophy, so you have _existential intelligence_.”

  
Jeongyeon hums, “Hey Momo, what are you looking for?”

 

“My badge,” Momo frowns back, having resorted to taking notes in a notepad, and squeals a moment later when she realizes it’s hanging around her neck. “Found it!”

 

Raucous laughter erupts from where Dahyun and Tzuyu are having lunch, and Jeongyeon turns back to Mina. “What type is she?”

 

Mina flushes red, but Jeongyeon answers for her, peering over her shoulder, “ _Bodily-kinesthetic?”_

 

“Oh! Yes, that would make sense, Momo’s very good with her body-“

 

“I’m sure you’d know.”

 

“No,” Mina objects, fully aware that she dug her own grave, “That’s not what I meant-“

 

“Sure, sugar,” Jeongyeon wiggles her fingers, retreating back to her desk like a lion after a successful hunt, “Seeya.”

 

Mina groans.

 

-

 

“I shouldn’t have bought this much,” Nayeon is beginning to realize, staring at her luggage bag, which currently weighs in at a magnificent twelve pounds over limit. Bursting from the open zipper are boxes of Swiss chocolate and mini replicas of the Eiffel tower, and Sana sighs. It had taken the two of them and a whole lot of jumping to get the damn thing to close in the first place.

 

She gives it a futile push with her foot. Unsurprisingly, the luggage stays put. “Maybe we should just buy more baggage allowance.”

 

“And pay fifty bucks for ten pounds of weight?” Nayeon sticks out her tongue, “There’s a cheaper way to do that, and that’s the burger place next door.” She glumly fingers the boxes of chocolate, “I was looking forward to some of this stuff.”

 

Looking at Nayeon so downcast makes her heart hurt, and Sana frowns, deep in thought. She wants to make this better, as long as it means Nayeon gets out of this mood. They look pretty sad sitting on the floor beside the weighing scale, anyway, staring at chocolate they’ll never get to eat.  

 

“That’s it,” she gasps, “We have to eat through it.”

 

-

 

There’s something positively cathartic about the lab Tzuyu works in, probably owing to the lack of human traffic and the presence of cold hard science, and it always manages to lift Tzuyu’s mood. She’s in her element here, moving in between racks and transporting scientific equipment Momo has no interest in knowing the names of.

 

Tzuyu reminds Momo of herself, and it feels like their life paths have run parallel to each other. They’re both highly determined people given the correct incentive, and have achieved their dream careers. Momo became a cop to fight crime and feature in documentaries, and Tzuyu became a lab tech to research and analyse… whatever it is that she does.

 

Dahyun is in Jihyo’s office trying to log her back into the system (Jihyo, computer illiterate as she is, somehow managed to lock herself out of Microsoft Office), and Chaeyoung is in the interrogation room with Jeongyeon, speaking to a witness to come up with a police sketch, which leaves Momo alone in this room with Tzuyu. No Dahyun or Chaeyoung to cushion the awkwardness between them. Which is fine, she tells herself. She’s a detective. She hunts down bad guys for a living. What’s a little chit-chat?

 

“Nice choice of… wallpaper,” Momo compliments, staring straight at the white walls. They’re so shiny she can practically see her reflection. Is this why Tzuyu became a lab tech?

 

Tzuyu gives her an odd look. “I didn’t choose them, but thanks, I guess.”

 

“No problem,” Momo squeaks back.

 

It’s not Momo’s fault she’s so bad at talking around a very specific type of person. Put her around anyone else and she’s fine. Hell, she once squeezed a confession out of a guy by reaching across the table and hugging him. It’s just around _pretty girls_ that she can never quite compose herself around. Tzuyu is pretty. Obviously. Her whole squad is pretty. Which makes it so much harder to be around Tzuyu. And the rest of them.

 

(“Yes, I’ve had that problem before, too,” Nayeon tells her unsympathetically, “It’s called ‘homosexuality’.”)

 

It’s not like she has a crush on Tzuyu, because she gets even _worse_ around girls she has crushes on. This is harmless stuff compared to the things she’s done around crushes. She once cried because Mina looked at her for too long.

 

Granted, Mina was on top of her when she did so, and was actually asking her a question while staring at her, but Momo has the memory blocked out. The issue is that Mina is on top of her in a lot of her memories, so that’s a pretty significant chunk of her experiences blocked out. She supposes it’s just how she rolls.

 

Not for the first time, she wonders what Mina sees in her. Probably her ass. Momo’s been doing squats. 

 

“The plaster on the masks was traced back to a place in Busan,” Tzuyu says, interrupting her gay panic, “They manufacture masks and only masks, which is a little creepy, but it’s a lead.”

 

Just like Tzuyu with her lab, Momo is back in her element – perusing files and figuring out the next steps in the investigation. She takes the papers from Tzuyu, squinting at the name of the company. “What sort of name… _L’appel du Vide_? Know what it means?”

 

“I’m Taiwanese, not Google Translate.”

 

“Right. I forget sometimes.”

 

Tzuyu rolls her eyes, and types the words into the nearest computer. She peers at the screen, “It means _call of the void_ in French. Like when you’re on a high place and want to jump off.”

 

“Macabre,” Momo comments, and Tzuyu nods. This wasn’t as bad as Momo had feared, and she smiles, “Thanks, Tzuyu.”  

 

-

 

In the time that she’s away from the office, Nayeon’s office becomes a very alluring space for the rest of the squad. As their sergeant (something which they all forget constantly – even Nayeon), she has a room of her own beside Jihyo’s, which is so disorganized that she doesn’t actually use it sometimes. Jeongyeon suggested burning the whole thing down and starting over to Jihyo, once. Her only issue with it was the potential destruction of classified documents.

 

(“The bureaucracy would be worth it,” Jihyo sighs tragically, “I just wouldn’t be able to reason to the higher-ups why I let my squad set fire to their sergeant’s room.”)

 

It’s an impossible challenge, and at this point, even Jihyo seems to have given up on it, and has instead started threatening to send people who piss her off into the room. In Sana’s own words, “Naughty detectives get put in the shame room.”

 

But as the father himself Erno Rubik once said, “If you are curious, you'll find the puzzles around you. If you are determined, you will solve them.”

 

And Mina is nothing if not determined to gain Jihyo’s approval. And Nayeon’s. And Jeongyeon’s, because she’s older than Mina and still fits within the ‘people in positions of authority’ category. Momo too, then. Sana too.

 

It really is hard being the youngest in the squad.

 

Now, Mina stands at the precipice of an uncertain future – with cleaning gloves shucked onto her hands and a pair of hazmat goggles she’d borrowed from the equipment room. The guy running the equipment counter had given her a very confused look when she’d passed him the list of equipment to sign out. Said frown only deepened when she revealed her intentions to him. (“You sure you don’t just wanna call the exterminator?”)

 

“Hey Mina, are you going to move or do we just walk around you from now on?”

 

Mina jumps at the sound of Dahyun, who seems to have mysteriously appeared behind her. She follows Mina’s line of sight into Nayeon’s office and winces, “Are you doing what I think you’re doing?”  

 

“…Yes?” Mina hears the uncertainty in her own voice and straightens up, putting a determined note into her tone. She pictures the look of pride Jihyo will give her when she’s done. Maybe Jeongyeon will even stop teasing her for displaying her cubing championship trophies on her desk. The thought is sweet indeed, and Mina would rub her hands together if it didn’t mean dropping the buckets in her hand. She smiles. “Yes. Yes I am, Dahyun. You’re welcome to watch.”

 

“I’d rather not.”

 

“Your loss,” Mina shrugs, “I am going to _demolish_ this place, if demolish means _clean it up so well that it’s spotless_!”

 

“That’s not what it means.”

 

“Your loss.”

 

“Right. I’m just gonna go, because I have work to do,” the younger girl steps away carefully, holding a sheaf of papers close to her chest.

 

Mina only repeats, “Your loss,” and charges into the belly of the beast.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! leave a comment or kudos if you liked it......................... come scream at me on twt @toastboxnayeon


End file.
